


A Knock to the Head and a Thump in the Chest

by ronans



Series: Prompts [30]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: ?? probably, AU, Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Nurse Ian, mild flirting, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:17:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> Nurse!Ian and Patient!Mickey au Mickey keeps ringing his call light and Ian's his nurse and he keeps getting frustrated because Mickey keeps asking for stupid things and it's just cute cute cuteness - <a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/116188577954/fluffy-prompt-nurse-ian-and-patient-mickey-au">mickeysavesian</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Knock to the Head and a Thump in the Chest

**Author's Note:**

> Mickey's head's cut pretty badly but it's not too graphic I don't think  
> I'm really sorry if I got stuff wrong but I've never been put in the situation Mickey's in haha, so, yep, apologies for that

It isn’t unusual for a Milkovich to be covered in blood and dirt on a Saturday evening, but it’s never been this bad. The brothers’ drunken roughhousing had grown a little too heated and a bottle had been smashed and, basically, now Mickey’s propped up on a hospital bed, waiting to be seen by a nurse while holding a blood coated rag to his forehead.

‘You need to use something else, that thing can’t soak up any more blood,’ Mandy sighs from where she’s slouched in the chair next to the bed.

‘Yeah, okay, I’ll just rip this fuckin’ curtain down or whatever,’ Mickey grumbles, tugging gently on the divider. Mandy narrows her eyes at him.

‘You hanging in there?’ she asks as she watches Mickey wave his hand in front of his face.

‘I can’t see properly, but, yep, m’good.’

Mandy rolls her eyes and changes her position, leaning her forearms on her knees. She looks at Mickey for a while before she reaches forward to tap his leg and draw his attention back to her.

‘You shit for brains have gotta learn to hold your liquor. I’m serious. If something like this happens again, you’re dragging your own bloodied ass to the ER. Or Iggy. Or Colin, or whoever the fuck this happens to next time.’

Mickey sighs and presses his head back more firmly into his pillow. ‘Just got a little outta hand this time. I can hold my fuckin’ liquor.’

‘Clearly not,’ Mandy chuckles, shoving his leg again before returning to her original place. Mickey exhales loudly and then winces as he moves the rag against his forehead. Some of the blood’s already drying and it _fucking stings_ where the cloth’s started to stick to it.

There’s a few more moments of quietness before a tall, incredibly hot guy walks in kitted up with scrubs, a killer smile, and a first aid kit. ‘Hey, I’m Ian, here to check out the damage.’

‘Name’s Mickey, not Damage.’

‘Oh my god,’ Mandy mumbles into her hand. Ian raises his eyebrows and lets out a shocked snicker as he puts down the first aid kit on the bedside table.

‘Let me guess; head injury?’

‘Was it the blood stained cloth pressed against his forehead or the awful pick up line that gave it away?’ Mandy asks, smiling up at the nurse. So evidently Mickey’s not the only one in the room who’s finding this guy pretty.

He grins politely and then steps over to Mickey’s bed, squinting at the rag. He then points at it. ‘Uh, okay, I’m gonna have to remove this to assess the problem.’

Mickey doesn’t reply because, holy shit, the gross artificial hospital light is doing wonders towards lighting up Ian’s red hair. Ian’s fingers are gentle as they handle the cloth but being gentle doesn’t remove the horribly intense pain of the material being separated from the deep cut in Mickey’s head. A guttural moan leaves Mickey’s mouth and he scrunches his eyes shut. Jesus did Iggy fuck him up this time.

‘Sorry, man, but I gotta do this.’

‘ _Fucking hurry the fuck up_ ,’ Mickey draws out with his teeth clenched.

‘This is filthy,’ Ian mutters, finally tearing the fabric away. He frowns down at it as Mickey lays gasping on the bed. ‘How long did you have this on there?’

‘Like… an hour? Maybe more?’ Ian looks surprised so Mandy purses her lips and shrugs. ‘There was this huge discussion about whether or not we should take him to a hospital. Not like this doesn’t happen often, and we usually deal with it ourselves.’

‘Well, that’s not a good idea. Stuff this severe needs attention.’ Ian gestures to the open wound across Mickey’s head. He looks more closely at it and then reaches to the side table to put on a pair of latex gloves. ‘Actually… it probably looks worse than it really is.’

‘Not like my fuckin’ brains are fallin’ out. Told you I could deal with it,’ Mickey hisses as Ian presses his finger against the skin around the lesion.

‘Better to be safe than sorry, you were right to come here. It might be infected, Mr Milkovich,’ Ian murmurs quietly as he inspects it further. Mickey doesn’t feel at all official when Ian addresses him like that.

Mickey’s a little disorientated and he knows it’s not just from the head wound. Ian smells like anti-septic and some sort of flower, and then his fucking eyes are, like, right there in front of Mickey’s face and they’re _so pretty_. Plus, Ian’s voice is extremely smooth and just so nice on Mickey’s ears.

‘Thanks,’ Ian titters before he leans back and removes his gloves.

‘You’re welcome.’ He’s not entirely sure what Ian’s thanking him for, but he’s pretty certain it has something to do with the thoughts Mickey was thinking. All Mickey can really focus on is Ian’s clipped on name badge… Ian _Gallagher_.

‘Okay, you’re probably going to need stitches for this one. I’m going to need to clean it first, though. Might be a little painful, but I’m guessing you’re totally fine with that, huh, tough guy?’ Ian says slightly condescendingly. Mickey knows Mandy’s puffing out her chest and is about to defend her family but Mickey waves her off. He can see Ian’s joking.

‘Okay Mr Nurse, I’mma be fine with that.’

‘Good, because you kind of don’t have a choice,’ Ian says back. He starts to rummage around in the first aid kit he’d brought in with him. ‘While I’m setting up, I’m going to ask you a couple of basic questions to make sure there’s no memory loss.’

‘Jesus fucking Christ, he wasn’t dropped on his head, it’s just a little cut,’ Mandy laughs, rolling her eyes.

Ian looks up at Mandy from under his lashes and tilts his head. ‘It’s a routine thing for head injuries. Just a precaution.’

‘He’s professional, Mandy, let ‘im do it,’ Mickey slurs, because he’s honestly still a little drunk and the blood loss isn’t really helping his coherency.

Ian smiles smugly and it’s kind of the best expression Mickey’s ever seen. ‘So, what’s the date today?’

Mickey wrinkles his brow and then immediately gasps because _shit_ that hurt. Mickey doesn’t even fucking know the date when there’s _not_ a risk of concussion hanging over his head. Of course, Mandy knows this and relays to Ian Mickey’s almost exact thoughts, with an added ‘That’s a pretty useless question’.

Ian snorts and takes out a few items from the bag. Mandy stands up and moves closer to the bed and Mickey can’t tell if she’s about to get angry at Ian for continuing to ask the questions, or if she’s going to start hitting on him. Mickey’s praying he’s gay.

‘Alright, instead how about, do you know what month it is?’

‘April,’ Mickey mutters, letting his eyes flutter closed because the synthetic hospital lighting’s really starting to piss him off.

‘Don’t go to sleep,’ he murmurs, almost like the order means nothing. ‘And what’s your age?’

‘Twenty six.’

‘And where are you right now?’

‘Hospital,’ Mickey mumbles, trying to frown up at Ian again but he should have learned a while back that any movement in the forehead area is going to cause a generous amount of pain.

Ian nods and then preps his needle, avoiding eye contact with both Milkoviches. ‘Did the scrubs or the multiple bottles of painkillers clue you in?’

Mandy looks like she kind of respects him, like she kind of is now more attracted to him. Ian smiles secretly and puts down his equipment, giving Mickey his full attention again as he clears his throat.

‘So I don’t think there’s any memory loss-‘

‘Well, I could’a told you that. It’s just a smashed beer bottle to the head, it’s happened a million times before,’ Mandy says offhandedly as she sits back down. Except it hasn’t. Mickey’s normally been able to keep his head out of trouble.

‘I’m just going to clean the cut,’ Ian says, completely ignoring Mandy, which, if Mickey’s honest, makes him feel a little smug. So what if it’s Ian’s literal job to pay attention to Mickey, he’s allowed to feel superior.

The light, happy feeling instantly vanishes as soon as Ian starts to actually go through with the cleaning and stitching process. Mickey’s dealt with stiches before. He’s dealt with dressing a wound. But it’s still not a nice experience and his head is throbbing like absolute hell by the time Ian’s finished.

He packs up his stuff quickly and efficiently and then nods.

‘Alright, so you’re pretty much all good, but I’m still gonna suggest that you stay overnight so we can keep an eye on the wound and check it’s definitely not infected.’ He taps his finger lightly against a button by Mickey’s head. ‘You can press this at any time, if you’re feeling any further pain or if you need anything, and I’ll come.’

Mickey smiles goofily until Mandy slaps his leg. He schools his expression and nods gravely but Ian’s looking entertained. ‘Okay, doctor.’

‘Nurse,’ Ian corrects. ‘I’ve got other people to see, so I’ll have to leave you but, yeah, just call if you need.’

Ian gives one last parting grin and turns around. A short beep sounds just before Ian gets to the doorway and he sighs, turning right back around again. ‘I have to leave the room before you call me.’

Mickey wiggles his eyebrows before he hisses in pain. Ian bites his lip and shakes his head.

‘I _also_ suggest you stop moving your eyebrows. You know, as a medical professional.’

Mandy barks out a startled laugh and watches Ian finally go with a weird look on her face. She hits Mickey's leg again. ‘What the fuck, Mick?’

‘Ow, Jesus, I’m the one lying in a fuckin’ hospital bed, you don’t get to punch the sick dude.’

‘Your legs work, don’t they? So I can hit them all I want,’ Mandy shoots back. She relaxes a bit into the chair. ‘Anyway, why’re you trying to flirt with the hot nurse?’

Mickey sinks his front teeth into his lip and then jostles with a chuckle. ‘Pretty sure he liked it.’

‘Or maybe he was into _me_.’ Mandy doesn’t sound all convinced, though. She shakes her head. ‘What the fuck ever, I’m gonna go. Someone’s gotta tell Iggy he didn’t make you brain dead.’

‘Think he knows that, Mandy.’

She smiles and stands up, squeezing her brother’s arm. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow to collect you, you pussy.’

‘Fuck you, I didn’t even want to come to the hospital.’

Mandy shrugs with one shoulder and then picks her bag up off the floor. ‘You know who to call if you have a problem.’

*

Mickey holds out until (the surprisingly hangover-less) morning to press the call button. He’s not entirely sure what sort of shifts Ian has, but he figures it’s worth a shot.

It takes a couple of minutes for Ian to arrive, but when he does he looks a little frazzled and he leans against the door jamb with his arms crossed.

‘Mickey, hey, what’s wrong?’

‘I can’t get out of bed and my curtains are open. Sun’s hurting my eyes,’ Mickey says feebly. Ian just cocks an eyebrow and his arms are still folded.

‘Okay. Anything else?’

He swears he can see a glint in Ian’s eyes, like he just fucking _knows_ that there’s no way Mickey’s that petty. ‘Nope. Just the migraine preventers.’ Ian narrows his eyes. ‘The fuckin’ curtains.’

‘Right.’ Ian chuckles and makes his way over to the window, roughly yanking the curtains closed. ‘Breakfast should be here in about fifteen minutes, I’ll be back to check up on your head in an hour or two.’

‘Great,’ Mickey replies like he doesn’t give a shit. But, obviously, he’s going to appreciate getting to see Ian again, even if it is just so he can prod at his gouged forehead. Mickey totally doesn’t try to watch Ian’s ass as he leaves. Fuck baggy hospital scrubs.

When it arrives, the food is just as shitty as he’d expected, but whatever, it’s not like he gets much better at home, anyway. And he should probably be awarded a medal for the amount of time he spends not pressing the call button… before he presses it again and Ian appears in his doorway.

‘Uh, everything okay?’

‘Nope, I just pushed the button thing, so what do you think?’

Ian shrugs and walks fully into the room. ‘I don’t know, I kinda expected a horrific amount of blood to be gushing out of your stitches since you pressed it multiple times. Is this an emergency?’

Mickey grunts as he elevates his body a little off the bed so he can reach into his back pocket to retrieve his smokes. ‘You got an ashtray ‘round here? Thought it’d be rude to just light up and flick ash all over these nice, fuckin’ sterile sheets.’

Ian looks at him disbelievingly before he crosses the room and snatches the packet out of Mickey’s hand. ‘Thanks for the cigarettes; you’ve saved me a few dollars.’

Mickey watches open mouthed as Ian slips the carton into his scrubs pocket and walks straight out of the room fucking _whistling_.

He’s pretty sure that if he hadn’t asked Ian to close the curtains earlier, he’d be able to see him outside enjoying Mickey’s cigarettes on his smoke break.

*

Mickey’s not even been here twelve hours, but he’s already pressed the call light at least three times. Only one of those times had a different nurse come to his aid, and fuck had he not enjoyed that experience. The woman was strung out and couldn’t give a damn about Mickey’s contrived issues, seeing right through his bullshit. Needless to say the next time Ian had been sent and the woman was nowhere in sight. At least Ian looked cheerful, even if he was faking it, and the bags under his eyes definitely pointed towards faking it.

So Mickey gets the extra Jell-O he requested, he gets the TV remote he for some reason hadn’t been given in the first place, and he gets the second pillow that would have really come in handy the night before. But this is the last time he’s going press the call light, he’s decided. He’s only got one request left anyway and he’s going to blame the painkillers if it all goes south.

‘Hey, Mick.’

Mickey bites down on the inside of his cheek because _he can’t smile right now this is serious_. ‘You don’t even look surprised anymore.’

‘From the second time you called for me I wasn’t surprised anymore,’ Ian replies, smirking. ‘What’s up?’

‘I was just wondering… Have you got, like… a private number?’ Ian narrows his eyes but Mickey can see the corners of his mouth twitching. ‘For if I need a fuckin’ check-up after I’ve left or whatever and the queue at the hospital’s too long…’

Ian outright laughs then and shakes his head, digging into the pocket of his scrubs and producing a folded up piece of paper. He walks closer to Mickey’s bed and hands it to him. ‘I was actually gonna come here and give you this anyway.’

Mickey lifts his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Mhm. I figured we should keep in contact after this seeing as, you know, you seem to need me so much.’

Mickey actually blushes under Ian’s amused gaze. ‘Oh… yeah.’

‘Sometimes you’ve needed me to get you food as well, so, I was thinking maybe you might call me on that number and arrange for us to get more food.’

He grins and breathes out a laugh, folding and unfolding the corner of the note. ‘Smooth, Gallagher.’

Ian lifts one shoulder and scrunches his mouth up, shaking his head again. ‘Not really. That was… yeah, that was bad, I’ll admit.’

‘Kinda worked, though, didn’t it.’

Ian presses his lips together to stifle a laugh.

‘Now let’s check that gross, Frankenstein looking head of yours for any infection.’

**Author's Note:**

> That was a terrible ending I'm sorry omg  
> [I'm not taking prompts right now but here's my Tumblr hi](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)


End file.
